


The Coveted Coin

by mmt_regina_nox



Series: Anker-Mah, A World of Fantasy [1]
Category: Anker-Mah
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 11:24:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13635303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmt_regina_nox/pseuds/mmt_regina_nox
Summary: A fair exchange must take place for it to change hands.





	The Coveted Coin

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this Tumblr post:   
> https://www.facebook.com/DailyTumblrPost/photos/a.558300694557448.1073741826.558300181224166/720877968299719/?type=3&ifg=1
> 
> It was supposed to be funny. I swear. I honestly have NO idea how it ended up in fluffy feelings…! *smh*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fair exchange must take place for it to change hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this Tumblr post:   
> https://www.facebook.com/DailyTumblrPost/photos/a.558300694557448.1073741826.558300181224166/720877968299719/?type=3&ifg=1
> 
> It was supposed to be funny. I swear. I honestly have NO idea how it ended up in fluffy feelings…! *Smh* *rolls eyes*

Twas a nice, sunny day. The perfect day for Stormwyn’s Annual Festival. People from all over Anker-Mah had been arriving in steady flows over the past few days, in preparation of their booths and of camping somewhere close to the city gates, for easy access.

That day was the first of a week’s worth of festival activities, among which there was fencing, archery, painting, singing contests, you name it, they had it. All flavors and every liking could be accommodated!

There was this man, a High Elf named Azrael Raz, first of his name, known for his blood relation to the Royal Family. He had arrived in a nice carriage, dressed in his white and gold High Counselor robes. People talked about his nobility, how righteously and unwaveringly he fulfilled his position, and yet, how well-respected and humble he was as a person. 

He approached one of the may booths, looking for a quick snack before the main Symposium of the Royalty. The attendant, a middle-aged Dark Elf woman, bowed her head. Now, you need to keep in mind that this all happened before the Great War that divided Anker-Mah, alright?

“Counselor Raz, it is a pleasure to have you here!”. The Counselor nodded and pointed to a delicious-looking caramelized apple.

“How much for this, dear lady?”, he asked, to which the lady shook her head and gave it to him. 

“Nothing for you, my Lord”, she smiled widely. He laughed and took the apple.

“But, surely there MUST be something I can do for you, right?”, he winked at her. Her dark gray cheeks went even darker, the Dark Elves’ way of blushing.

“Oh, well… you see, my Lord, I-I wouldn’t bring it up, but…”, she bit her lip, not looking into the High Counselor’s eyes. 

“Yes?”, he inferred. She looked up, through her lashes.

“There is a… thing going on around here. No one knows how it came to be, but… oh for the love of Parnathos, let me just show you!”, she said and, kneeling down, she seemed to rummage around for a few seconds before coming back up. Extending her hand, she showed him the aforementioned “thing”. 

To say he was surprised was an understatement. There, in the woman’s dark palm, sat a gold coin and, around that, sat the tiniest silver dragon he had ever seen, curled and cuddled like a child with its favorite toy. It reared up its head and let out a puny whine that was barely audible.

“What in the name of Parnathos is this thing?”, he asked, his eyes bulged at the sight before him, not quite able to believe what he was seeing. He reached out and poked the little creature. It was cold to the touch, but not unpleasantly so.

“It appears to be an Ivory Dragon. But we all know how his kind is enormous, almost as big as their cousins way up in Isle Ypsilon. How this little guy came to be, nobody knows. The scholars of Stormwyn have ran every possible test to determine his origins, but apparently, he is a regular Ivory Dragon, only… malformed. When one exchanges this coin, the dragon goes with it”, she explained.

While they spoke, a small crowd had gathered. They gasped at the sight of the tiny dragon on the coin, and talk had broken out.

“I’ll take him”, said Azrael. The woman shook her head.

“I’m afraid you cannot. A fair exchange must take place for it to change hands”, she replied. Azrael frowned. How was he going to get the creature? He looked down at his feet, biting his lip, and noticed the ever-present pouch of dried herbs tied at his belt. In a stroke of inspiration, he untied it and took out a handful, placing it in one of the numerous vials he always had on him. Corking it, he offered it to the woman.

“How about this? This is a mixture of herbs I have collected myself during my numerous travels. It can be used as a herbal tea to detoxify one’s body or as a salve to relieve muscle pains. I will exchange this vial for the coin. Yes?”, he asked, praying to Parnathos that it would work. It WAS fair, after all…! 

The woman’s answering smile let him know his idea had been the right one.

“Here you go, then”, she took the vial and offered the coin. He extended his hand and the tiny dragon, barely as big as his fist, took the coin in its jaws and clambered onto his hand and went all the way up to his shoulder, to nestle there, besides his long, raven black locks. The moment the creature got settled in and the exchange was completed, Azrael felt an odd surge of energy course throughout his body, like a cross between a lightning bolt and a rope tying itself firmly around his navel – it felt like he’s just been spun around a thousand times and then left to stand alone. It dizzied him to no end. He leaned forward and clutched the edge of the wooden table.

“What was that?”, he wheezed out, feeling winded, like he’d just ran a few kilometers in an armor made entirely of black iron.

“That was the dragon binding itself to you. That is, of course, until you buy something and exchange him. Here, drink this”, a man said from his right, offering a wooden pint filled with a purplish liquid.

“What is this?”, he inquired, wary of random strangers offering drinks. Of course, no one in their right minds would attempt to murder a Counselor in plain sight, in the world’s most popular festival. But, the world was not a nice place. 

“Equilibrium potion. Especially useful after sudden bouts of dizziness, sea journeys or long flights”, the stranger said, the smile clear in his voice. Without another word, Azrael took the pint and downed the drink. It tasted faintly of honey and smelled like lavender. 

Instantly, his sight cleared and the world settled into its axis. He looked over to see whom he had to thank for the help, and noticed a short, stout Dwarf, no more than 1,50 meters tall, dressed in a typical scholar’s getup – white linen tunic, leather vest with lots of pockets and sheaths for tools, leather pants, a belt with a multitude of pouches, and leather boots lined with dark fur. His hair was an astounding copper, with golden streaks catching the sunlight, a few soft locks barely covering his ears, while the rest was held in braids that reached the nape of his neck. His eyes, two big orbs of caramel-and-cinnamon brown, were – regretfully – hidden behind a pair of round wire-rimmed glasses. A narrow splash of freckles was spread on the bridge of his nose and across his cheekbones. His skin was tanned to a dark caramel that, weirdly enough, complimented his hair.

Azrael drew in a sharp breath at the constricting feeling in his heart.

“Who… who are you…?”, he asked breathlessly. The stranger flashed a bright smile and offered a hand that was clad in finger-less leather gloves.

“I’m Balur. Balur the Scholar”, he offered, and Azrael shook his hand in a daze.

“I’m...”, the other man cut him off with a “I know who you are, Lord Raz. Talk of your kind and just nature has reached Stormwyn. I admit, I was curious to meet you myself”, with a wink. Azrael felt like all the blood in his body had decided to take residence in his cheeks, he just knew his face must red as a beetroot.

“Right… sorry...”, he mumbled, not quite able to look the Dwarf in the eyes.

“Eh, don’t worry about it”, said Balur, “come, I’ll buy you another candied apple and you can tell me all about Basaleon and the wonders you’ve come across in your travels”, he nudged him forward and Azrael noticed that his apple had fallen on the stone-paved road, forgotten. He looked back and smiled at the expectant look on the man’s face. Then he looked down at their still-joined hands and blushed yet again, but made no move to stop the contact. 

“Lead the way”, said Azrael with a smile, and Balur answered with a grin that obliterated sunlight. From his shoulder, the tiny dragon gave a content purr.

Twas a nice day, indeed.

~THE END~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How to pronounce the names:  
> (I tried my best)
> 
> Azrael: Ahz-ra-elle  
> Balur: Bahl-oor  
> Parnathos: Par-nae-though-s  
> Anker-Mah: Aan-ker-mah


End file.
